“Interesting.” That was the only word he could say. Not even in his wildest dreams did he expect such an outco.
In front of him now stood his three newest puppets—a knight wearing full-body armor with two curved blades in his hands, a tall and graceful valkyrie who held tightly to her trusty yet deadly glaive, and a cold, nacing archer whose eyes still held clarity even after the seeds of deception blood within him.
All of them were once illustrious mbers of the Silver Valkyrie’s cohort of holy knights, but now, they were nothing more than walking dolls tasked with guarding a certain prisoner. A prisoner of profound importance to his plans. At least, they should have been… All that stood in between them now was the fragrant air of the festival activities leaking in from the balcony.
The young man was gone. His body had vanished into thin air, all while being surrounded by a vastly stronger enemy.
“He actually managed to fool . When was the last ti such a thing happened?...” His thoughts trailed back to his younger years.
50 years ago? What a short amount of ti…
Smiling, he tilted his head toward the balcony, and the endless preparations the followers of the false god were working on.
“It seems I must change my strategy a little…”
Sowhere in the lower districts of Celestine, hiding in the darkness, a short young man clad in all black chainmail ran up the walls of an old alleyway while dodging arrows from both his back and front. HIs trusty blade was in his hand—its cold steel turning into a blur every so often to deflect the incoming projectiles before returning to its usual stance.
His face was half covered by a dark balaclava, and yet, the bloodlust in his eyes was enough to send the fear of death into any man’s heart. As he swiftly approached the marksman whose face was now flushed with panic, Tyrel deflected the last of the arrows before slicing the bow into tiny pieces and sending the man flying back with a kick. The man’s head recoiled as he slamd against the wall—for a second, he saw stars.
“Speak,” The voice sounded young but that didn’t take away from the fear it was inflicting him.
“Y-yes!” He squird. Cold sweat covered his face.
Tyrel pointed his blade at the man’s throat. “Where are you holding this young man?” In his other hand, a projected image was being displayed—a sowhat handso young guy with chestnut colored hair and amber eyes was smiling deviously.
The archer stared and analyzed the image over and over, but nothing about it was familiar. “I… I don’t know!”
Tyrel’s eyes narrowed. “Then, who is the Whispering Dream?”
The archer’s face continued to look fearful, but the mont that question registered in his mind, his entire deanor changed. Tyrel watched as the man’s face twisted from a look of absolute confusion and fear, into that of madness—his eyes were filled with eerie jubilation, and his dry lips curved upwards into a terrifyingly wide smile. He spoke softly to Tyrel:
“The Whispering Dreams sends his regards!”
In an instant, his head warped from inside, as if it was a balloon being filled with air. And just like one, it popped, splattering blood and brain matter all across the concrete floor. Throughout it all, the man’s smile continued to linger, as if he never even realized what was happening to him—or maybe… he simply welcod it.
Tyrel stared at the headless corpse in awe. His armor was now covered in blood—he brushed away the pieces of brain matter clinging to his chainmail and turned around—behind him stood his familiar partner. A young girl wearing a mage dress paired with a purple cone hat. Her hands were covered in scales, like flaming gauntlets of war, and in front of her stood the enemy—or, what was left of him at least.
“You too?” He asked.
Cassia sighed with a nod. “Yes, as you can see…” The man in front of her had his brain explode as well.
No witness was left standing…
“Isn’t this the third lead that ended like this? I am starting to think that the bastard is ssing with us!” She stomped her boot in anger.
Tyrel nodded. “I agree. Have your divinations given any results?”
“No, not yet.” She deactivated her dragon claws and watched as the scales disappeared one by one. Then, she channeled her thoughts to command her Soul Weapon to activate the Serpent’s Eye instead.
In front of her now stood a large crimson orb. She placed her palm on it and closed her eyes:
“I'll give it another go, I guess. It’s not like we have anything else left to try…”
Tyrel was planning on waiting patiently for her to finish, but just as she started, her eyes opened again—this ti, they were full of shock, but also excitent.
“I found him…” She said jubilantly. “I found a trace of his anima!”
“Number 35…”
The words echoed out through the hollow walls, mixing with the periodic drops of water leaking from the ceiling. From behind, he could hear the faint breathing of his precious partners as they readied themselves for another assault.
The Avalon Ruins proved to be a challenging dungeon indeed.
Myrin sighed as he rubbed the dried blood and dirt off his cheek. He turned around to face Nicholas who was examining a nearby mural on the wall—his trusty book and quill in hand.
“The corridors… I feel like they shifted again.”
The silver haired man nodded. “How much Forgotten Paths Dust do we have left?”
“Enough for a few more days.” Myrin replied. “We can keep going for a bit before turning back around.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Tina’s Sacred Treasure lted back into her gauntlets as she stepped ahead of both of them. “This is the thirty-fifth corridor right? It seems every five corridors, a certain change occurs.”
Nicholas nodded. “Indeed. I want both of you to co look at this.” He pointed at the mural he was studying—both Tina and Myrin walked in unison toward him.
As their eyes adjusted to the faint light of the flickering lamp, they noticed what Nicholas had been absorbed with all this ti. A giant stone mural carved into the cobblestone, stretching the entire corridor’s length and seemingly even going as far as reaching the other corridors connected to the one they were currently exploring. A network of story-telling carvings that didn’t exist just minutes prior.
The dungeon had shifted without them even noticing.
Both of them looked in awe at the unfolding scene. The mural depicted an array of towers, each reaching for the heavens. But what truly left them dumbfounded was the scene unfolding above the towers. Depictions of clouds and beings standing atop them were shown, wielding heavenly martial weapons. Their battle was so disastrous, the very stars fell, raining upon the srising city of towers below.
“Is this… Avalon?” Myrin couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. The art looked fairly crude, especially compared to his own skills… But that didn’t take away from the fear it was inflicting upon him. Sothing about the scene was extrely chilling—as if he was witnessing sothing no mortal should be privy to…
He glanced at Tina and Nicholas, but neither of them said anything—they too were struggling to grasp what exactly they were looking at.
Myrin frowned. “Should we follow it?” He asked, but his instincts were already telling him an answer:
Turn around now before it’s too late.
Nicholas shook his head. “I know what you are thinking but no. We can’t turn around now. If we leave and the dungeon shifts again, I doubt we’ll be able to discover this area again for a while… And the Dungeon Shroud’s influence hasn’t grown yet, so we still have ti to explore before it begins to affect our minds.”
Tina frowned. “I agree with Nicholas. Turning around now will waste all our efforts for nothing.”
Myrin sighed. “I guess you’re both right…” He commanded his Soul Weapon to shift back into a flute and brought it close to his lips. A quiet and soothing lody escaped from its pipe, calming them all.
“This should give us a small boost for now.”
They both nodded before continuing to follow the mural alongside the corridor’s wall. Myrin said nothing and walked behind them. Their pace was slow, but they had to be in order to see and try to understand the ancient unfolding murals before them.
The story being depicted felt disjointed. So parts of it seed to have been scratched off or destroyed, while other parts seed to not even be related to the cataclysmic event they first saw. It was all fairly strange.
But then again, the Age of Mysteries as it was called, was known for its strangeness. The information scholars have regarding it was all completely contradictory. One scholar might note a certain civilization’s rise at one period, while another might argue that it was actually the fall of that civilization. None of the archeologists could even properly date the relics from that era as many of the tribes that existed long after the fall of the Avalon Empire continued to linger even past the Third Age of Fantasia.
In fact, it was because of this historical dispute that the current politics between Staterra and Aellora was so hostile. Both nations claid ownership of the Avalon Ruins, arguing that it belonged to their ancestral heritage. Of course, this was nothing more than an excuse—the real reason for their disputes was because of the powers hidden within these decrepit tunnels. A single Sacred Treasure or magitech device found here with a unique use case could theoretically destroy the balance of power between them—sothing neither kingdom was willing to allow.
As they continued walking down the corridor, Myrin grew bored. The murals beca harder and harder to decipher—their anings now lost to erosion. This was fairly strange on its own. Dungeons have the ability to repair themselves if need be, so for there to be large sections of the walls left in such a state was nothing less than odd. Was it purposefully being neglected by the dungeon, or was there a more nefarious explanation?
Whatever, he thought. This was sothing Nicholas would have to figure out, not him. He was the archeologist of their group—Myrin’s role was to keep the party safe from unexpected threats. His Soul Realm was expanded all around them, listening to the faintest of sounds.
Still, their situation was not sothing he was expecting at all. Since the start of the expedition in this new section of the Avalon Ruins, nothing had gone right.
The latest thing to throw their plans off was getting lost.
After a brief encounter with a fairly powerful Spirit Beast, they ended up getting separated from the main expeditionary force. This wasn’t a major problem on its own—the Forgotten Paths Dust was enough to lead them back to the encampnt if need be, but it was still alarming.
But before even that, everything went out the window the mont they t up with the Aetolus family officials. Because of Mistress Sienna’s status as a venerated teacher of Astrology from Luvinica, they didn’t allow her or anyone apart of her group to wander the dungeon on their own. But in actuality, Myrin suspected that it had more to do with wanting her prophetic abilities nearby than it was to keep her from leaking secrets to the fad academy…
The second thing they didn’t expect were the mbers of the expedition. The Silver Valkyrie was there, but a large swath of her loyal knights were missing. The mistress suspected that they might have been tasked with sothing else in Celestine, which would definitely make sense when paired with the fact that they arrived at the citadel earlier than most. However, this was still extrely strange. What could be so important in Celestine for them to ignore their mission here in the ruins? Were they just that confident or was there sothing he was missing…
This only exacerbated the tensions between the Aetolus family officials and the Silver Valkyrie, who represented Staterra.
But by far the strangest occurrence had to be the group from Yadria.
The Saintess of Dreams had sent not one, but two saints. Silmar and Luvin were both participating in the expedition, alongside three entire squads of magi. It was clear that the Saintess was expecting major results.
As his mind drowned in these thoughts, he noticed Nicholas telling them to stop. Just when he was about to ask, he noticed what both Tina and him were staring at. His eyes widened in shock.
A few ters ahead of them, the corridor expanded out into a large hall, enough to fit an entire party of giants.
But what was even more shocking was the colossal structure at the end of the massive hall.
A colossal stone gate, decorated in nurous carvings and murals stood proudly before them. All three humans looked like nothing more than insects before its ancient glory. At the center of the gate, two indentations were noticeable which Myrin suspected to be the key chanism to unlocking what was left behind it.
He glanced at Nicholas and smiled nervously. “T-this is the dungeon’s core… isn’t it?” His heart raced with excitent, but also fear. The core of a dungeon, especially one as significant as the Avalon Ruins, was said to be impossible to find. In fact, the re existence of it was said to be a myth—many scholars simply believed that the dungeon continued on forever.
For them to stumble upon it by accident was nothing short of a miracle.
No wonder my gut feeling was telling to leave… Myrin stared at the colossal gate baring their way with trepidation.
Nicholas nodded silently. He stood still for a few more seconds before answering:
“Let’s mark this place and notify the mistress. We’ll decide what to do then…” In fact, Nicholas was hoping they wouldn’t do anything at all. A guardian spirit was always said to stand in the way of anyone who dares to try to enter the dungeon’s core. These usually range in strength depending on the labyrinth and its history.
As for the Avalon Ruins, a labyrinth whose history takes it back all the way to the Age of Mysteries… Its guardian spirit has to be at least at the level of a Saint. No, even that might not be enough…
But there was sothing else even more worrying. Judging by the tensions between the nations, if any of the mbers of the expeditionary force managed to discover this…
War.
Both Myrin and Nicholas reached the sa conclusion. An all out war would break out between Staterra and Aellora. No, even Yadria might get involved…
A continental war not seen since Yasini’s Demise…
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